


you could be like me, but i'm no better

by InvertedPhantasmagoria



Series: to make you what i want you to be [4]
Category: Diabolik Lovers
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, F/M, Inspired By Tumblr, Minor Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader Insert, Sub Au, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 00:02:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17652239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InvertedPhantasmagoria/pseuds/InvertedPhantasmagoria
Summary: And then he’s back to scowling, fingers twitching like he wants to wrap his hands around your throat.Backing down now isn’t an option. You stand firm, staring him down. After a moment, some invisible thread of tension breaks, and Subaru looks away first, turning his head with a vicious glare.. . .Diabolik Lovers Au. Subaru's route.





	you could be like me, but i'm no better

**Author's Note:**

> This took me too long -3- In my defense, I've gotten 2 new diagnoses in the past couple months, and also college is exhausting. I'm still here and still writing, but bleh I'm tiredddd. Anyway, this is a long-overdue chapter that was voted for a while ago! I've been working on it for ages, but it finally came together. I think I'm going to focus on one character at a time after this, so this particular section may not see an update for a while. 
> 
> Anyway, warnings for this chapter include minor blood and gore, descriptions of injuries, general abuse and nastiness, blood drinking, death threats, and Subaru trying to be intimidating. There's also the usual note that while the first couple chapters in each section are tame, every part of this story _will_ get explicit. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who reads <3

Eventually, after it feels like a while of passing time in your too-pink room has passed, you decide that sitting around will do you no good. You stand up, brushing yourself off, and walk over to the door. 

There, you hesitate for a moment. No one told you that you could leave your room, and chances are, you’ll be walking right into trouble. This place is dangerous, you’ve figured that much out already, and virtually handing yourself over to the monsters is by no means a wise idea. 

It’s not like you’re any safer locked away where they put you, you think, laughing out loud to fill the suffocating silence of the room. 

The door opens with an ominous creak, echoing out into an empty, equally silent hallway. A chill wraps around you, squeezing at your bones, and you shiver despite yourself. You move out into the hall, steps silenced by the thick carpet covering the floor. You can still smell blood, something which doesn’t exactly surprise you anymore, and the unpleasant creaks and whispers of the mansion no longer seem quite so mysterious. 

You know what you’re dealing with now. There’s no reason for you to be afraid. The vampires may be able to hurt you, but they’re  _ never  _ going to see you cower like the girls they’ve taken here before you. 

That bravery filling your chest, you shut your door behind you and start to walk. You don’t know where you’re going, just that doing something has to be better than sitting around and waiting to become someone’s prey, that moving around and taking some initiative is better than wasting time.

Before long, you’re lost in a maze of confusing turns and hallways that never seem to end. There’s no reason why the house itself wouldn’t be somehow supernatural, and you don’t doubt for a second that it’s designed to get people turned around. You don’t run into so much as another living thing, though, much less one of the vampires set on terrorizing you. 

It’s almost peaceful to wander the dark, musty halls of such a beautiful old mansion, and before long, you’re actually approaching relaxed. 

How funny, you think, that you’d be so content in a situation like this. You don’t imagine that any of the vampires would expect a piece of prey that has no fear of their death trap of a house, much less any of them. 

Outside, from what you can see through the darkened windows you occasionally pass, the storm is only getting worse. Rain is pouring down, lightning flashes every few seconds, and low rumbles of thunder rattle through you every time you stand too close to a window. It’s quite the nasty ambiance, really, like something out of a horror movie. When you think about it, your life now sort of  _ is  _ like something out of a horror movie. 

You spend a few minutes looking out the window, enjoying the calming pattern of rain pounding outside. You sort of wish you could go outside in it, sit down and let all of your problems be drowned out by the rain. 

But you’re on the second floor, you haven’t found any stairs yet, and you’re going to have to settle for watching the storm from here. 

You’re calming down, little by little, the rage over how these monsters have treated the girls who came before you fading to a mere simmer. You know that fury won’t get you anywhere, but you can’t help but be angry on the behalf of everyone who’s suffered because of these awful boys. 

And boys they are. Despite their physical ages, you have a sense that the lot of them are as immature as it comes. The way they treated you, the way they reacted when you refused to show any fear was downright childish, and it’s not far from the realm of possibility that you really are dealing with a group of overgrown, spoiled children who are too used to getting their way. 

You sort of wonder where their parents are. If vampires even have parents, that is. It seems strange that the group of them, childish as they are, would be left alone in a mansion like this with no form of supervision. 

A hand lands on your shoulder, cold and rough, and those thoughts are shaken right out of your head. You resist the instinct to flinch, and stay still, making it very clear that whoever appeared behind you is doing absolutely nothing to frighten you in any way. 

“What are you doing here?” a voice growls, and you recognize it as the strong boy from earlier, Subaru. You turn around, intentionally calm. 

Subaru is taller than you, built strong, but slender enough that you can tell he’s young… at least physically. The hand that was on your shoulder just a moment ago is bruised, faintly, and there’s a glower in the one of his crimson eyes that you can see. His clothes are dark and torn at the edges, and the only soft part of him that you can see is the pale fluff of his hair. 

His posture is tense, almost angry, and he looks at you with the exact kind of anger you’d expect from a teenage boy. In fact, he seems so  _ young  _ that you almost laugh at the fact that he’s trying to be intimidating.

“I said, what the hell are you doing here?” Subaru snaps again, clenching a fist by his side, like he expects you to be afraid. 

“I was bored, so I took a walk. Am I not supposed to be in this particular hallway?” you ask, and yeah, it does come out a little smart assed. You’re not feeling friendly in the slightest towards these boys, and for all they tried to intimidate you, you can’t help but feel annoyed with this one. 

Subaru’s jaw tightens, and while you’re aware that you probably just made him all the angrier, you can’t find it in you to be afraid. Instead of cowering, you meet his eyes, standing up to your full height without a hint of fear. Something in his expression goes strange, unreadable. You wonder if any of the girls that have been his prey have ever stood up to him like this. 

“You’re going to fucking die,” Subaru says at last, and his voice is a low growl. “If you keep that attitude up, one of us is going to kill you.”

“I think you all are going to kill me regardless of what I do,” you say back, your own voice even and calm. Subaru looks at you with something close to shock, like no one has ever figured that much out before. 

“And you’re not scared?” he asks, fingers twitching by his side. 

“Why would I be? It’s practically the inevitable now. There’d be no point in panicking over something I can do nothing to stop.” It’s mostly true. You are leaving out the part about how your anger swallowed up your fear from the moment you got here, but it’s as truthful as he needs to hear. 

“Tch. Stupid woman,” Subaru mutters, taking a step towards you. “You’re annoying. You can act like you’re not afraid all you fucking want, but you’re just a weak little  _ human. _ ” His hand lands on your shoulder again, tugging you towards him with a rough grip. He’s stronger than any human, despite his thin frame, and you stumble, falling forwards. 

Subaru’s hand goes under your chin, tipping your head up towards him with a forceful motion that sends little sparks of pain up your jaw. With an irritated expression, he stares at you again, seemingly searching for some trace of fear in your eyes. You don’t expect he finds any. 

With a growl, Subaru shoves you back towards the wall, slamming your back against it with enough force to knock the wind out of you.

While you’re struggling to catch your breath, he forces your hands above your head, grip painfully tight around your wrists. He’ll probably leave bruises. Your shoulders strain at the rough handling, protesting the angle. 

“We’ll see if you’re so fearless,” he growls, and leans it so close that his breath is cold against your neck. You have a pretty good idea of what’s about to happen, and it’s through willpower alone that you don’t struggle. You wish you could smack him, force your hands away and push  _ him  _ to the ground, but you’re well aware of how much stronger he is than your human self. The best choice you have is to take what he does with bravery. 

Fangs prick the soft skin of your neck, cold and sharp. A second later, they pierce it, and hot pain shoots up and down your spine. It doesn’t hurt nearly as badly as you were expecting, though, and you almost laugh. If this is all they can do, you’ll be fine. You can take this much pain  _ easily.  _

The feeling of blood leaving your body is a strange one, but you force yourself to relax. Subaru cages you in against the wall, still holding your hands at an awful angle above your head, and his hair tickles at your chin. 

He pulls away after a few moments, forcing your hands higher in a painfully rough motion, and taking another searching look at your face. 

“The  _ fuck _ …?” he growls. “You’re still not…? Fine. I’ll make it hurt, then.” His free hand goes to your shoulder, shoving you back with even more force. You feel something in your ribs creak, but you bite your lip and stay calm. You’re not going to let him win this, no matter what he does.

Subaru’s mouth moves to your shoulder, fangs sinking in rougher than before. They tear at your skin, razor points shredding little lines in the flesh. You don’t give him a reaction. No matter how much it hurts, you won’t. 

Even as your shoulder starts to burn from the pain, torn nerves protesting the abuse, you bite your lip and stay still. Subaru doesn’t so much seem to be going for blood as he is just hurting you, and if you had a hand free, you think you might try to hit him. The impression of these boys as spoiled, unpleasant children strikes you all over again, that he’s just trying to hurt you because you wouldn’t let him have his way and frighten you. 

By the time Subaru pulls away, you’re starting to feel lightheaded from blood loss. The blood from your shoulder is dripping down your front, slicking your skin and staining your shirt. Subaru’s mouth is colder than anything human, and he keeps you pinned with truly inhuman strength. 

Subaru looks at you again, and even though your head is starting to spin dizzily, you glare at him with impassive spite. You’re smart enough to keep your mouth shut, though, to not say any more smart-assed remarks.

The spot on your shoulder that he was biting looks something like raw meat, you think. A bolt of nausea twists through your stomach at the sight. 

He did this just to try to scare you. There’s no reason why Subaru had to hurt you so much. He’s only trying to intimidate someone that he knows is weaker. You hate him for it. This boy, young-looking as he is, is as much a bully of the rest of them. You think that you might be glaring, meeting Subaru’s eyes with the fury that’s boiling over inside of you. 

He takes a step back, dropping your hands abruptly. Even though your legs feel like jelly, you keep yourself upright. There’s no way you’re going to give him the satisfaction of crumpling like a broken doll from the abuse. 

“Still not scared?” Subaru asks, sounding disgustingly sure of himself. His mouth is covered in your blood, a gorey mess of red staining his lips. You can just picture a younger girl, bleeding and terrified, standing in your place and fearing for her life because of the monster in front of her. Pain blazes down your arm, and you wish that you could hit the boy for it. 

“Are you done now?” you say, instead of dignifying him with a direct response. A flash of something unreadable crosses Subaru’s visible eye. 

“Heh, pretty tough,” he laughs, and his tone is nothing but smug. “You’re better than those girls who don’t do shit but whine and cry. Fine. If you think you’re so strong, you can be my prey.” Subaru licks his lips, swiping a trail of blood off his mouth. Your shoulder throbs. 

How unpleasant. The way he talks about his victims, like their pain was in any way their fault makes something near your eye twitch. You think about saying something rude. You think about scolding him for talking about people so defenceless in such a condescending way. 

You don’t say anything. You don’t trust yourself not to say something dangerous if you open your mouth. There are no doubts in your mind that Subaru would kill you if you took the wrong step out of line. 

You’re fairly certain that he might just do it for fun, at this point.

“You’re going to die here,” Subaru says, colder than you’ve heard him yet. “You aren’t going to get away. Submit while you still can, or you’ll regret it.” And just as quickly as he appeared, he’s gone, vanishing into thin air in a way you just know is meant to leave you feeling uncertain. 

As soon as you’re sure he’s gone, you slide to the floor, heaving a shuddering breath. Between the fury filling your stomach like lead and the burning pain lancing through your shoulder with every little move, there’s hardly room for you to think, let alone calm down. The pain you can handle. The anger might actually get you killed. 

More than anything, you wish you could do something to fight back. You wish you were strong enough to make him hurt too, to even the playing field enough that he couldn’t try to treat you like a scared little girl. 

Fuck, everyone else he’s done this to probably  _ was  _ a scared little girl. You know very well who was supposed to be sent here instead of you. 

Minutes pass, filled only with the even sounds of the pounding rain outside. It’s calming, and you slowly find your breath again. When you ease yourself to your feet, feeling shaky and drained, you note the spot of blood that had pooled on the wall behind you like an awful warning sign. 

Your shoulder is a mess. You can’t see much through the blood, but you could feel how Subaru tore up the flesh. You think you’re going to be lucky if he didn’t damage some kind of major muscle. 

In a moment of spite, you take one of the decorative cloths covering the seat of of a nearby chair and tear off a few ragged strips. You bandage your shoulder one handed, tying it tightly to hopefully cut off some of the bleeding, and smirking a bit at how the pretty cloth is soon stained red. Hopefully, your makeshift bandage was something decently expensive. 

Even though you’re exhausted through and through, you know you have to find your way back to your room somehow, so you start walking, hoping that the mess of corridors will take you where you need to go. 

. . .   
You find your way back to your room eventually, arriving on shaky legs and weak knees. The pain in your shoulder has escalated to a truly unpleasant throb, pounding with your heartbeat. The makeshift bandage is a dark red, and you’re pretty sure that that’s far from a good sign. 

When you push open your door, you’re honestly thinking that things can’t get much worse. Then, a cold hand grabs at yours. 

This time, it’s the smallest one, Kanato, dark-circled eyes wide as he stares at you. The same stuffed bear is clutched to his chest with an iron grip, and he’s eyeing you with a darkly predatory, hungry gaze. 

“Um, can I help you?” you ask, trying to slide your hand away from his. He doesn’t let go. You fight back a frustrated, unhappy sigh. 

“I smelled blood,” Kanato says, voice low and tone polite. “I see that you’re injured.” His eyes flicker to the bandage around your shoulder. You can’t help but feel like he’s sizing you up, seeing if there will be something to gain by harming you, just like Subaru did. Despite his size, there’s something dangerous in how he carries himself, in the dark look in his eyes. 

“Yeah, I am…” you reply, trailing off. This one seems vaguely unstable and you’re not sure what you can say that won’t just make things worse.  _ If  _ there’s anything you can say that won’t just make things worse. 

“You smell sweet.” He takes a step, leaning in closer to you, sniffing the air. “Will you let me have a taste?” Okay. Yep. This one is definitely also set on biting you. You resist the urge to grit your teeth only because you know that showing fear will only make things all the worse for you. 

Well, not that what you’re feeling is fear. By this point, it’s more of a numb, frustrated exhaustion that’s seeping down to your bones. 

“Somehow, I doubt you’re going to take no for an answer,” you say before you can stop yourself. Kanato’s face scrunches up ever-so-slightly in recognizable disgust, glaring at you with dull, violet eyes. 

“How unpleasant,” he comments, voice low. “Teddy doesn’t like women who don’t know how to behave, and I don’t either. Please learn some manners quickly. Your behavior is repulsive.” His tone is soft and polite, but the words that come out are biting and cruel. Despite the fact that he looks like a child, you sort of wish you could get away with hitting him. 

A second later, Kanato is mere inches away from you, leaning in much too close and staring at your shoulder. “Pretty…” he mumbles, reaching out and tugging at the red-soaked bandages. “One of my brothers left you with such a lovely wound, hm? Very well, I’ll leave you to your fate with him.” There’s something wicked in Kanato’s tone, like he thinks he’s doing something cruel by leaving you to one of the others. You silently  _ seethe.  _

You can’t help it. You glare at him. Not terribly so, but enough that he can guess that you’re disgusted. Kanato’s eyes narrow a bit, and you suddenly get the impression that something very bad is about to happen. 

“Quit making that face!” he screams, so sudden that you can’t help but jolt. “You’re mocking me, aren’t you?! Stupid woman! If this is how rotten you act when I try to be nice to you, why should I waste my time!?” The sheer level of rage coming out of such a small body is impressive… or so you think right up until, out of nowhere, a nearby vace crashes into your head.

Fortunately, it’s not too solid, and the glass shatters on impact. You’re showered with shards, a fresh, stinging pain budding at your forehead, and Kanato laughs hysterically when you flinch. 

He picks up one of the larger shards, still ranting about how cruel you are, and throws it at you once more before vanishing. The shard bounces off your hair, and you wince. There’s blood dripping down your forehead, a mess of glass around you, and you’re so angry you can hardly breathe. 

Your impression of these boys being nothing but  _ children  _ is very, very right. That was a temper tantrum if you ever saw one, and now that you’re hurting in two places instead of one, you think that you’re thoroughly done with vampires for the night. You don’t bother to pick up any of the shards of the vase. Someone else can deal with it, and you’re far from in the mood to clean up after the brat that thought it would be funny to throw it. 

The door to your room shuts behind you with a sense of finality. You’re under no impressions that the vampires can’t get in here, of course, but it feels slightly more peaceful to have the space to yourself. 

You take a few minutes to wipe the blood off of your forehead, wash both those cuts and the nasty wound on your shoulder, and re-bandage the whole mess with fresh strips of cloth, this time torn off of the pretty, decorative piece that had been draped over your bedside table. 

When you lay down, your body feels like lead. You’re tired, mostly in the sense that you’re not sure you can make it through another day of this without snapping and getting yourself killed. Maybe that would be better. 

But then, you realize what you’re thinking. 

It’s like they’ve beaten you already. By giving up like that, you’re playing right into the bullying that these monsters want to use against you.

. . . 

It’s dark again when you wake up. You have the feeling that you’ve slept for a while, long enough that the day has probably passed you by. You’re still tired, exhausted in a way that only pain and tension can drag out of someone, and you sort of wish that you could just stay in bed and never deal with the mess around you ever again. 

But there’s a servant in your room, an older man who’s  _ definitely  _ not human, standing a polite distance away and calmly informing you that you’re expected to attend breakfast in the main dining room. 

One he gives you directions, he disappears, and you’re left blinking at the sudden absence with no small amount of frustration. 

Instead of getting up, you lay right where you are for a few seething minutes. Your head is throbbing, and your shoulder feels like someone stabbed it a few times with a steak fork. You really,  _ really  _ don’t want to get up and deal with the vampires all over again. 

The servant made it very clear that the instruction to attend breakfast was much more of an order than a suggestion, though, and you know well that you don’t have much say in the matter. So you haul yourself to your feet, feeling somewhere between ready to pass out and simmering with lingering fury. You find non-bloody clothes in the wardrobe–  _ somehow  _ your size– and get dressed. You head out into the hallway. 

It’s only a floor down and a few turns to the left that you find the dining room, where all of the boys are assembled together again, eating in silence and pointedly not looking at each other. 

Six piercing gazes fall onto you the moment you step into the room, in varying degrees of subtlety, and you debate turning around and running right back upstairs and avoiding this whole mess. The one with glasses, Reiji, greets you sternly, and gestures to where you’re meant to sit. 

You grit your teeth and obey, not wanting a fight quite so early. 

Ayato starts poking fun at you after a few minutes, laughing at your bandaged shoulder and the blood seeping through. Kanato makes a very pointed comment about how an unpleasant woman like you had your wounds coming. Laito slides in a crude remark about a ‘love bite’. Shuu appears to be dozing off where he sits, staring silently at his food. 

Subaru looks you dead in the eye and smirks, just enough that you can tell that he’s proud of himself. 

The meal continues as such, with the boys’ comments only getting worse. They seem to be enjoying themselves now that they have someone to torture. Your pain seems to be the highlight of the evening. 

You endure breakfast, somehow, quietly putting up with the mocking remarks that follow. None of the boys try to do anything to you beyond some passive insults and cruel words. You think a bit about hitting a couple of them, anger still burning hot and tar-thick in your veins. 

But you make it, somehow. Breakfast ends with no incidents, and you silently pride yourself on the fact that you  _ didn’t  _ try to hit anyone. You’re not really sure what you’re supposed to do now, and with the boys quickly going their own ways without so much as a word to what you can do with yourself, you doubt you’re going to get an answer. You’re half ready to just go back to your room and sleep, see how quickly you can pass the time stuck here, when a cold, strong hand lands on your bad shoulder and squeezes. 

“Can I help you?” you ask, turning around and batting the hand away. It’s Subaru. Your voice was kind of rude, probably enough to get you hurt all over again, but your shoulder is  _ throbbing,  _ and you can’t quite bring yourself to care about things like consequences. 

Subaru looks somewhere between annoyed and amused, a whisper of a smirk tugging at his mouth, just enough that you can’t be sure. 

He’s going to mess with you again. You can  _ tell.  _

“That attitude’s gonna get you fuckin’ killed, stupid,” Subaru says blankly, like it’s not that important whether you live or die. He grabs you by the hand and starts to pull, hard enough that you know you don’t get a choice of if you follow. 

He drags you away, out of the dining room and up into the confusing hallways that you already hate. As soon as, you assume, you’re far enough away that his brothers won’t interrupt, he slams your back against the wall behind you, caging you in with one strong arm pressed to your collarbone.

“You smell like  _ pain, _ ” he growls, leaning in close enough that you can see the unnatural red of his visible eye. “Did one of them get to you? That damn mouth got you in trouble, didn’t it?” 

He sounds angry, somehow, more resentful than pleased. It’s a sudden contrast to what you were expecting, and you freeze for just long enough for him to take your silence as something entirely different. 

“You’re afraid, aren’t you? You should be. You’re going to die here, and no one will help you.” Subaru’s voice drops to something low and threatening, like he’s making a promise. You’re glaring at him before you can stop yourself, too tired to contain your annoyance. 

“The only reason I’ll die here–” 

Your sentence is abruptly cut off by a fist punching into the wall next to your head, hard enough to leave a gaping, shattered hole.

Okay. He’s pissed. Great. 

“Shut up! You’re annoying. Quit running your mouth and learn your place here; you’re prey, and that’s not gonna change. The sooner you accept that, the less you’ll suffer for it,” Subaru growls, leaning in close to your throat. 

A second later, a familiar pain lances through you, this time on the opposite side of your mangled shoulder. Subaru’s fangs sink in deep, and the head-rush of sudden blood loss leaves you dizzy. 

It hurts just as badly as before; maybe worse. You bite your lip, hissing through your teeth as slick blood drips down your skin, hot and sticky and disgusting. It only takes a second for your temper to hit some kind of breaking point. You don’t care if it kills you. You’re  _ not  _ going to sit there and let some spoiled child treat you like his victim. 

Your hand draws back. 

With every bit of strength you have, you slam your clenched fist into Subaru’s jaw, hoping,  _ hoping  _ that it will hurt anywhere near as badly as you want it to. That at least he’ll get the message that you won’t be easy.

Subaru is torn away from your shoulder far enough that his fangs snag on your skin, tearing fresh gashes into you. You wince, clenching your hands tight to ignore the pain. 

“Get off of me,” you hiss, sounding furious like you never knew you could be. You’ve had enough. You had enough  _ last night  _ and this is just the last straw in making everything boil over. If you have to stay calm and take being bitten and insulted and pushed around for one more minute, you’d rather you were dead. You’re  _ done.  _

Subaru actually pulls away, taking a step back and leaving you to stand on shaky knees, hold yourself up from rage alone. 

His expression is unreadable, but you can guess that there’s an explosion coming any second now. These could very well be the last few minutes you’re still breathing. 

In that case, what the fuck; you might as well go out with pride. 

So you haul yourself up, standing as straight as you can manage, dropping the hand that had moved to clutch at your freshly wounded shoulder. You meet Subaru’s gaze with no hesitation. 

“I’m not afraid of you. I  _ won’t  _ be afraid of you. You’re going to kill me, and I know it. But I’m not, and I will  _ never  _ be your prey. You’re not going to scare me that easily.” The words come out easy, like you were meant to say them. For a split second, something like shock flickers across Subaru’s face.

And then he’s back to scowling, fingers twitching like he wants to wrap his hands around your throat.

Backing down now isn’t an option. You stand firm, staring him down. After a moment, some invisible thread of tension breaks, and Subaru looks away first, turning his head with a vicious glare. 

“Fine, stupid woman. If you want to fight, go ahead. It’ll be fun to watch you struggle.” He grins, trying to look intimidating, but somehow, it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

Something’s happened here. You’ve taken some small victory, and when Subaru vanishes, you finally allow yourself to relax. Both shoulders burn with pain, and you’re faint from blood loss. You’re honestly amazed that you’re  _ alive  _ after mouthing off like that. You can’t believe you hit him and got away with it, even if he did just think it was funny that you fought back instead of cowering. 

You stood up for yourself, somehow. Now the question is if you’ll be able to get away with doing it again. 


End file.
